


The Dog-Barista-Busker-Boyfriend

by Winsextr



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Busking, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Honestly??? What am I doing, M/M, Okay wow I just pushed every trope i could find into this, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winsextr/pseuds/Winsextr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras keeps seeing Grantaire going about various jobs and everytime he falls a little bit more in love. Unfortunately, he now needs a fake boyfriend.</p><p>“Excuse us,” the man says, smiling brightly at Enjolras as he passes him, and Enjolras remembers that society generally considers it rude to stare at strangers on the street.<br/>“That’s a lot of dogs,” he says intelligently<br/>“Not for me,” the man replies with a laugh before continuing on his way, and Enjolras lets out a tiny little oh that he really hopes the dog-man doesn’t hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dog-Barista-Busker-Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I just about threw every trope I could find into this. More chapters to come. I really love pining enjolras soooo  
> Chapter title from Hey There Delilah (i love that song and also that one fic tbh shout out)

The first time Enjolras sees him, he's walking seven dogs.

In fact, Enjolras doesn’t even notice the man at first, just sees the dogs and stops dead in his tracks. And then he sees the dude who is walking these dogs, and he about has a heart attack.

Because the man is grinning, and he holds himself in that easy, relaxed way that magazine models seem to (and honestly, he's hot enough to be a model. Maybe he is, and this is some weird marketing ploy to appeal to dog-people. Enjolras has to refrain from looking around to see if there's a band of camera people watching them,) and his eyes are silver and oh, Enjolras is so doomed.

“Excuse us,” the man says, smiling brightly at Enjolras as he passes him, and Enjolras remembers that society generally considers it rude to stare at strangers on the street.

“That’s a lot of dogs,” he says intelligently.

“Not for me,” the man replies with a laugh before continuing on his way, and Enjolras lets out a tiny little oh that he really hopes the dog-man doesn’t hear.

 

The second time Enjolras sees him, he's working at the Musain.

“Haven’t I seen you before?” Enjolras asks when dog-(barista?)-man asks what he’d like to order, because Enjolras doesn’t really recognize him without the copious amounts of dogs.

Dog-barista-man grins, and oh right, he’s the dude that Enjolras totally has the hots for. “Right! Apollo, I saw you when I was walking the dogs.” He leaned forwards, over the counter, and whispers conspiratorially, “so what do angels like to order at coffee shops?”

Enjolras opens his mouth to make a sort of gurgling noise that will surely help him attract a boyfriend. “Um.”

“Hold on. Let me surprise you?” Dog-barista-man’s eyes have lit up, and he rubs his hands together excitedly.

(He’s got very nice hands. Enjolras has never really noticed hands before, but he likes these ones. In a non-creepy, murdery way.)

Enjolras’s face feels like it’s about 200 degrees, and his throat apparently isn’t working, so he just nods.

The drink is delicious. Enjolras asks what it is, and dog-barista-man just smiles and winks. Enjolras thinks that he must be dying.

 

“Ask him out.”

Enjolras practically squawks, throwing a hand over his heart. “Are you insane? That’s not how this kind of thing works!”

Courfeyrac laughs, rolling his eyes. “Oh right. I forgot that you’re an alien who doesn’t understand human mating rituals. You see, Enjolras, while your kind might just dance around the fact that you like another and find it to be strange and rude to actually admit your feelings, humans typically ask another human that they are attracted to out on a date.”

Enjolras scowls. “It’s not that. It’s just… I barely know him.”

Courfeyrac lets out a sigh. “That’s the point of a date, Enj.”

Combeferre snorts helpfully.

“I don’t know if he returns the feelings!”

“He called you Apollo. And an angel. Next question.”

Enjolras fidgets. “He has seven dogs! I think…”

Courfeyrac sits back, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Look. It’s my life, I’ll do what I like, and I’m not going to ask this random guy I literally met off the street on a date.” He has on his scary, leader voice, and it’s clear that the conversation is over.

 

Enjolras is on his way to work, thinking about the anti-LGBTQ bill that they’re trying to overturn, the third time he sees him, and he’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice the music until it’s source is standing right in front of him. And also his building.

Which is when dog-barista man becomes dog-barista-busker-man.

Also, dog-barista-busker-man (Enjolras decides to call him DBBM, the alternative is just too long,) is really good at the fiddle and Enjolras hadn’t even known that he was into that but god, his hands are so distracting.

“Who are you?” he asks, and the DBBM just winks (he really likes to wink, doesn't he?) Enjolras thinks he might cry.

He begins playing "Hey There Delilah," (which makes no sense, they're not in New York, but oh lord it's so cute and is this flirting? Enjolras needs Courfeyrac.) “Don’t worry, Apollo. All proceeds go to the animal shelter. Humans might be horrible and disgusting, but nothing will ever keep me from protecting dogs.”

And okay, maybe that’s a little cynical, but it’s also kinda sweet and Enjolras can’t deal with this right now, he has a job to do.

“Well. That’s good,” he says thickly, and hurries inside of his building.

 

“We’ve gotten reports of a local store owner has been threatening same-sex couples with violence, and on two occasions, a gun. We need to make sure that this is true before we can do anything about it,” Lamarque says, and Enjolras immediately has an idea.

“I have an idea,” he says, and the room goes quiet.

 

Lamarque doesn’t like the idea, she says she doesn’t want to get a civilian involved in a potentially dangerous situation, but she also concedes that it’ll work.

“Tell me more about this man you plan on working with,” she says, after she’s dismissed the meeting but told Enjolras to stay. “What’s his name? What does he do for a living?”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, because he hadn’t thought this part through. “Well. I don’t know what his name is. But I know what he does. Well. I think I do. He walks dogs. Or he owns seven dogs, I’m not sure. He also works as a barista and busks.”

“Enjolras, you’re insane.”

“Noted.”

“You say he’s just outside?”

Enjolras’s eyes are trained on the carpet. “Yes ma’am.”

“Heaven help me,” Lamarque says, rubbing a hand over her face. “Bring him in here.”

 

The fourth time Enjolras sees him, they're inside Lamarque's office. DBBM has his violin tucked under his case, and he's biting his lip. He's been silent while Lamarque explains what they want his help with. Once she's finished, DBBM tilts his head. "Sure, why not," he says finally, and his grin is dazzling.

Which is how dog-barista-busker-man is now dog-barista-busker-boyfriend. D triple B.

Also, Enjolras now knows that his name is Grantaire.

Enjolras likes that name.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed that! I promise I'll write more chapters I just wanted to get this one out there. Sorry it's short, I'm not good at writing long chapters. Any comments are greatly appreciated! Oh and you can find me on tumblr at gay-french-and-dead if ur interested.


End file.
